


just say yes

by xxrisque



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Marriage Proposal, horrifying displays of domesticity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:31:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxrisque/pseuds/xxrisque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“How long has it been?”</p><p>“Two years, four months, sixteen days and,” Courfeyrac turns to study the clock on the wall of the cafe, “about four and a half hours.”</p><p>“You know what I’m going to say to that.” Enjolras meets his eyes with a curious expression on his face.</p><p>“That I shouldn’t let social norms dictate whether I should or shouldn’t propose to my boyfriend?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	just say yes

“Is it still too soon to ask him?” Courfeyrac asks with a pout as he scrolls absently through a forum on his laptop. Enjolras, sitting across the table from him with a broadsheet spread open on his lap, looks up and raises an eyebrow.

“How long has it been?”

“Two years, four months, sixteen days and,” Courfeyrac turns to study the clock on the wall of the cafe, “about four and a half hours.”

“You know what I’m going to say to that.” Enjolras meets his eyes with a curious expression on his face.

“That I shouldn’t let social norms dictate whether I should or shouldn’t propose to my boyfriend?”

“Correct,” Enjolras smiles, “because you shouldn’t. If you feel like you’re both ready for that level of commitment, then go ahead. If not, then you wait a while, and ask in a year, or six months, or six weeks, however long it takes.”

“How did you know you wanted to ask Grantaire?” Courfeyrac asks, cocking his head slightly and scrubbing his fingers through his hair.

“Honestly, it came as quite a surprise.” Enjolras admits with a tiny, fond smile and closes his newspaper. “I came home from work one evening and he was cooking dinner. He had the radio on and he was singing while he made a stir fry, and he had this ridiculous apron with a bikini on the front, and I just thought ‘I need him in my life, for always’ and then it just suddenly all made sense. I asked him a week later.”

“Huh.” Courfeyrac deflates a little, looking back at Enjolras with an odd expression in his eyes. “Because I’ve kind of felt like that for, um, two years, four months, sixteen days and nearly five hours. Since he kissed me, actually.”

Enjolras just laughs affectionately.

 

*

 

Courfeyrac buys and hides the ring three weeks later, scraping the last of his inheritance and dragging Joly out with him in order to make sure he found something Combeferre would love.

“You know, you could ask him with a daisy chain or a Haribo ring or even without a ring at all, I’m sure he’ll still say yes.” Joly says as he waves Courfeyrac goodbye from his doorway.

“This is Combeferre,” Courfeyrac replies in a fond voice, “he deserves the moon and the sun and every star in between.”

Joly smiles at him and raises his hand to wave goodbye, and closes the door. Courfeyrac walks home with a spring in his step, and stashes the ring carefully in the midst of his sock drawer where Combeferre will never, ever look.

He unearths a notebook he hasn’t used since he graduated university, grabs a pen and starts writing out ideas.

His first thought is to go back to the student union at their university and ask him there, since that’s where they met. He scribbles this out immediately, having sudden memories of the fact that he was wearing a bowtie with a t-shirt that day, and not wanting to remind Combeferre of that faux pas.

He drums his fingers on the page, humming to himself as he tries to think. He considers just booking a table at their favourite restaurant across the city, or taking a weekend away to go to the seaside and proposing somewhere on the coast of Cornwall, but he doesn’t even write them down.

There’s an unexpected rustle of keys in the door and Courfeyrac snaps the book closed, tucking it back onto the shelf of old university supplies and grabbing a book from the shelf above it and making himself look busy.

“Hello, love.” Combeferre says as he bustles into the sitting room, dropping his work bags against the doorframe and leaning down to kiss Courfeyrac gently. “Good day?”

“Mm,” Courfeyrac replies thoughtfully, engaged in pretending to read whichever novel he’d grabbed, “rehearsals was fun. I met Joly for coffee, too. Bossuet, Chetta and the bump are doing well.”

“That’s good.” Combeferre smiles as he sits down beside Courfeyrac on the sofa, pulling out a folder of lesson plans as he goes. “We started the kids on Boudicca today. The girls felt very empowered, apparently. Bahorel taught them Celtic war cries.”

“Of course he did.” Courfeyrac laughs gently, looking away from his book at Combeferre. The other man is leaning over the coffee table flicking through a collection of carefully arranged grids and occasionally making notes. “I’ll cook dinner tonight, yeah?" 

“Okay.” Combeferre looks at him and smiles, ducking to kiss him properly. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Courfeyrac pecks him on the cheek and moves into the kitchen to start preparing vegetables. The whole thing is rather sickeningly domestic, Courfeyrac thinks, especially when Combeferre appears in the kitchen for coffee and hugs him from behind and kisses his cheek.

He knows then that he’s definitely making the right decision.

 

*

 

It takes Courfeyrac a week and a half to decide how he wants to ask Combeferre to marry him. Several pages of the notebook are covered in scribbles and messy handwriting and some were even ripped out entirely, but now he knows and it’s going to be _perfect_.

At first, he was going to tuck a note into the pages of the book Combeferre’s currently reading, but then he’d noticed no less than eight individual books with bookmarks in them, and he’d written it off as a bad job.

Then his plan was to spell out the question on their ceiling with glow in the dark star stickers, and he’d even gotten as far as actually buying the stickers before he realised that even with the help of ladders and standing on his tiptoes, he couldn’t reach the ceiling.

So he ended up stowing them away in a desk drawer until he thought of something to do with them. He gives them to Joly later in the week, to decorate the baby’s nursery.

Then it hits him, and he’s honestly astounded that it took him this long to think of it. It’s _perfect_.

And so it’s Monday morning, and Combeferre has just left for work. It’s early, too early for Courfeyrac’s liking, but he’s sprinting down the street in a suit and tie and launching himself into Bahorel’s waiting car. He silently thanks every deity he doesn’t believe in that Combeferre cycles to work as Bahorel pulls away from the side of the road and breaks every speed limit on the way to Combeferre’s school.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Courfeyrac sputters out as Bahorel pulls into the car park and forces a whiteboard pen into his open palm, “you are a god among men, I swear.”

Bahorel chuckles and pats him on the arm, ushering him out of the car without another word.

Courfeyrac jogs across the school grounds, passing both Cosette and Feuilly as he goes. They both smile and wish him luck, and Feuilly points him in the right direction to Combeferre’s classroom.

He finds it easily and pushes the door open, letting out a long, slow breath. He uncaps the pen, and very carefully writes ‘ _will you marry me?_ ’ in the centre of the whiteboard, before setting the pen down on the tray attached to the front. He takes another soft, steadying breath before he smoothes out his suit, rearranges his hair and hides behind a bookcase.

Combeferre arrives five minutes later, humming something to himself as he sets his bag down on his desk. He unbuttons his cardigan, rolls up his sleeves and wipes his glasses on the fabric before he turns to his whiteboard. Courfeyrac steps out from his hiding place and watches, holding his breath anxiously.

“ _Oh_.” Combeferre says softly, and Courfeyrac can’t see his face so he doesn’t know what to do, standing helplessly at the back of the room and waiting. Combeferre picks up the pen from the whiteboard and very carefully, in his best teacher handwriting, writes his reply.

Courfeyrac holds his breath until Combeferre turns to see him and their eyes lock. Combeferre steps to the side to reveal the _‘yes_ ’ he’s written in perfect cursive beneath Courfeyrac’s question, and he grins.

“Oh. _Oh_.” Courfeyrac stares at him, gaping and smiling until he remembers how to move. He steps towards Combeferre, smile widening impossibly further as he pulls the ring box from his pocket and drops to one knee. “I know you said yes, but I’d really like to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” Combeferre’s grin is radiant and beautiful as Courfeyrac slides the ring onto his finger. “God, yes, I will marry you, Courf.”

Courfeyrac gets back onto his feet and pulls Combeferre in for a long, tender kiss, arms sliding up around his neck. Combeferre smiles into it, lips curving against Courfeyrac as he links his arms around his waist and pulls him closer still.

“Mm, I love you.” Courfeyrac pulls away to mumble against his jaw after a moment or two. Combeferre laughs affectionately, curling his fingers tight in the back of Courfeyrac’s suit jacket.

“I love you too.” Combeferre kisses him again, smile creasing the corners of his eyes.

“Eurgh,” a small voice rises from the doorway, and they pull apart to see one of Combeferre’s students standing there, “Elise, look, sir’s _kissing_. Gross.”

Combeferre huffs out a laugh and beckons the two girls inside.

“Amanda, Elise, this is my fiancé, Courfeyrac.” Courfeyrac waves awkwardly at the children, one hand firmly clasping Combeferre’s.

One of the girls, Elise, Courfeyrac thinks, gasps, looking at the both of them in awe.

“You’re getting _married_? That’s so romantic!” She sits down in her seat beside her friend, resting her chin in her hands. Then she notices the writing on the board, and gasps theatrically again. “Oh, he asked today?”

“Yes,” Combeferre smiles brightly, “it was very sweet. I said yes, of course.”

Elise sighs dreamily.

“Oh, that’s lovely.” She says dreamily, looking over at Amanda. “Don’t you want to get married, Manda?”

“Nope,” her friend replies flatly, looking back at the worksheet she’d pulled from her bag, “boys are gross. Girls are way better.”

Courfeyrac and Combeferre both laugh under their breath, before Courfeyrac turns to his fiancé –and god, he’s never going to be over that- and straightens the collar of his shirt.

“I have to go to rehearsals, _The History Boys_ is a cruel mistress.” Courfeyrac smirks, kissing his cheek. “I’ll see you at home. I made reservations.”

“Of course you did.” Combeferre smirks and shakes his head affectionately. “So sure I’d say yes, were you?”

“I had an inkling.” Courfeyrac grins and gives him a quick kiss goodbye. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go, you’ll be late and I have a class to teach.” Combeferre pulls him in for a tight hug and ushers him out of the door.

Courfeyrac kisses him goodbye again before he goes practically leaping down the corridors. He dips into Cosette’s classroom as he passes, shouting an exuberant ‘he said yes!’ as he goes. She beams back at him and congratulates him as he bounds out of the school grounds.

He pulls out his phone, meaning to send out a mass text to his friends and then call his mother. He discovers then that Combeferre must have beaten him to it, because he’s already been inundated with texts and missed calls from all of their friends.

_[From: Bahorel] I saw, congrats man_

_[From: Marius] Cosette just told me, congratulations!!!! Dibs on best man xx_

_[From: Grantaire] So I hear congratulations are in order. I’m happy for you both x_

_[From: Joly] Told you he’d say yes :) congratulations, and love from Bos, Chetta and baby too xx_

_[From: Jehan] Oh my god congrats!! You better tell me everything when you get to work mister :)))))_

_[From: Feuilly] Judging by the uncharacteristically giddy noises I just heard from Ferre's classroom, he said yes then? Congratulations, both of you :)_

_[From: Enjolras] :D_

Courfeyrac laughs openly at the last one, because in all the time he’s known Enjolras, he’s never once used anything more than a smiley face, and even those are few and far between.

He’s about to start replying to everyone and calling his family when another message comes in.

_[From: Combeferre] I definitely shouldn’t be texting you now because my class are coming in, but sod it. I love you so, so much and I really can’t wait to be your husband. Wow, I’m gonna have to get used to that. Fiance. :) love you xxx_

Courfeyrac beams stupidly at his phone, before he tucks it back into his pocket and turns to make his way to work.

He skips the whole way there.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a [tumblr](http://badlydressedbahorel.tumblr.com), come say hi!
> 
> (also, if it was in any way unclear, Combeferre, Cosette and Feuilly are all primary school teachers, Bahorel is Ferre's teaching assistant, and Courf and Jehan are actors.)


End file.
